


Girl Gamers Don't Wear Chainmail Bikinis

by CarysValerian



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarysValerian/pseuds/CarysValerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She couldn't help but think that if she were in-game,in Westeros, she would have put him in place with a quick thrash of the sword she'd proudly crafted herself.  But right there in the 7-eleven, she would have far preferred a quick death- one where she didn't need to choose between letting him win or standing her ground.</p><p>Written as a response to a prompt about Jaime and Brienne playing a video game together, but it's developed into something a little more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Close Encounters of the Lannister Kind

**Chapter One- Close Encounters of a Lannister Kind**

* * *

**  
**  


**Congratulations, you have reached level 50!**

Brienne stared at the screen of her computer while a sense of accomplishment washed over her. She knew, deep down, that she shouldn't feel as proud as she did- that winning an accolade in a virtual world held little value in the one where she had to live every day. Still, somehow the fictional realm of Westeros felt more real to her than the college dorm that she called home.

She was lucky though, she had won the residence lottery, and her name was drawn for one of the much coveted single, senior apartments in Evenfall Hall. It was a little pricey, but based on her previous social experiences her father, bless his heart, had offered to help pay the inflated rent for on-campus living. It gave her the privacy to do her work and live in peace.

That wasn't to say there weren't countless opportunities for her to have a decent social life, and the few friends she had always made sure that she was included. Still, she far preferred her life on-screen, at least when she wasn't busy writing essays and doing research to help her complete her Medieval Literature Major. Even a personal invitation from the charming Renly Baratheon the night before couldn't rouse her from her room, and he'd been a friend since high school- the only one at her prom who deigned to ask her to dance.

"Winter Break ends tomorrow Brienne. You should have some fun before new classes start up again," he'd urged.

She'd made up a lame excuse that she couldn't even remember, though at least managing a blush- turning so red she rivaled a tomato.

Brienne appreciated the fact that he'd acted disappointed, his handsome smile fading at her refusal. She'd had a crush on Renly, before she knew that he'd liked a guy at the same time. Even now that he'd been dating Loras for a year, she still couldn't help but grow red for old times sake.

When she closed the door on him her heart was beating a little quicker, but a deep breath managed to calm her back down so that she could focus more on the book about medieval combat she was reading.

It wasn't as if she didn't enjoy socializing with the people she knew, but when she met someone for the first time in crowded situations, disaster never failed to ensue.

Brienne knew that she was not beautiful. She could barely be called homely. She tried to tell herself that she didn't care about the way she looked, since there wasn't a makeup product on Earth that would be able to fix her terrible complexion. Her broad shoulders and thick torso were ill formed, and looked out of place in anything that could be considered fashionable. God forbid she wear heels- she didn't need any help to make her look taller. She'd had braces when she was younger, but her teeth still managed to look horsey.

Still, Brienne Tarth did care about the stares, the sniggers and the insults, and no matter how many times her friends reminded her that she shouldn't let the stupidity of ignorant jerks prevent her from enjoying herself, she couldn't help it.

And that was the beauty of Storm Sword. A new, online role playing game that was rich in medieval culture and lore was exactly what Brienne had needed. She'd always enjoyed playing video games, but none quite as much as this. The writers had clearly done their research into history and lore, and such dedication to perfection was something Brienne could appreciate. The story, the characters and the world drew her in like flies to the residence mess hall when it wasn't cleaned after one of Renly's _get-togethers._

She had fought against both computer generated creatures and twelve year olds with too much free time on their hands until she managed to reach the peak of Storm Sword perfection. Only a handful of characters had managed to make it so far, and her own avatar, Bri_the_Blue had gone down in the game's history along with TheSwordoftheMorning, Barry_the_Bold, DragonQu33n and Hear.me.r0ar- all completely legendary in the Westeos gaming community.

Although it was near midnight, Brienne hadn't eaten. She had been too focused on achieving her goal. Now that she had, her stomach was rumbling fiercely, and she was way too tired to cook anything herself. Stretching as she rose from her ergonomic computer chair, she put on her winter jacket, slung her simple, brown purse over her too-large shoulders, and headed down the stairs.

At the bottom of Evenfall, a 24 hour 7-eleven served all of the Casterly College student population, as it was conveniently located in the center of the campus. Even so late on a weekday it was crowded. While it wasn't too difficult for Brienne to squeeze through the throngs of late night shoppers thanks to her stature, it was still a pain.

Picking up a pre-packaged croissant sandwich and a bottled water, Brienne waited in line with the students undoubtedly picking up soda and Gatorade to mix with the alcohol one of their seniors had snagged for them. Brienne didn't drink. She wouldn't have dreamed of doing anything illegal before her 21st birthday, and after it had passed she didn't think much of it. Still, she wondered what it would have been like to have been at least a little rebellious, though considering her entire existence seemed to be an affront to some people, she supposed she never really got the urge like other students.

Brienne heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that she was next in line to check out, despite the fact that the boy in front of her, who looked like a freshman in his overly baggy pants and backwards cap, was intent on purchasing the entire store. Yet just as it looked as if she might finally get a chance to pay for her late dinner, the door opened, slamming against the cases of unpacked soda bottles that stood beside it.

If her life had been a romantic comedy from the 90s, the person who walked into the store next would have probably been accompanied by a soft rock ballad, his golden hair blowing in a mysterious wind.

Everyone in the store stopped to look for a moment, probably because they all knew who he was.

Jaime Lannister was the son of the current college president, and she'd read somewhere that it was his family who'd founded Casterly over a hundred years ago. He had been in her freshman history class, but even if she had never seen him before she would have known who he was. He was as good-looking as the rumors about him reported, but he was also accompanied by his step-sister Cersei, his female equivalent in notoriety and attractiveness, as well as his younger brother Tyrion who was also easy to spot, Tyrion was a dwarf, but unlike Brienne, who let her appearance affect her more than she let on, Tyrion was well-known for being social- if not as popular as his siblings.

Brienne tried her best not to stare at the trio as they picked up some snacks and drinks, and she was definitely more successful than most of the others in the room. Even the cashier was staring wide-eyed, as if he couldn't believe the mighty Lannisters had deigned to set foot in his humble convenience store. He was so enthralled, by Cersei in particular, that by the time Brienne's turn came to pay he managed to completely ignore her- a feat that had thus far been pretty difficult to do given her height and appearance.

She cleared her throat in annoyance to get his attention, and he mumbled a sorry that sounded more like he wanted _her_ to apologize for interrupting his blatant staring.

And just as she was about to be rung up, she felt herself get practically pushed aside by Jaime as his sister dropped her purchases on the counter- despite the giant line that practically stretched out the door.

"You don't mind if we just cut in here, do you?" He said. It wasn't a question, and he never offered her a single look as he asked.

The thing was, she really did mind. Not only for herself, but for about the 15 other people who had gotten in the store first and were waiting to pay. If it were only her, perhaps she wouldn't have said anything, and thinking back, she could blame her words on how late it was, or how hungry she felt. Still, taking in her courage she spoke.

"I do mind, in fact. There is a line. If you would like to make your purchases you're more than welcome to stand in it," she said, puffing out her chest a bit in indignation. Jaime looked at her then, and Cersei did too, both wearing looks of incredulity. At least the younger brother had the decency to look the slightest bit embarrassed.

"God, are you a woman? I didn't realize," he laughed, as if he really hadn't known. Brienne's eyes narrowed. And there it was- the reason she hated meeting new people. Somehow it didn't surprise her that Jaime Lannister was an ass, but she didn't exactly care for public humiliation. She turned red in the face, much to her shame- she always blushed, even when she knew it made her look even more ridiculous. 

The wise move now, she thought to herself, would be to remain silent. Step back and pretend that he hadn't said anything. Beg the Lannisters forgiveness as if she were some sort of common wench and he her liege lord from long ago.

Brienne was often wise- but not when her stomach was ravenous and her pride poked at.

"You know very well that I am. And you also know that I'm right. I'm sure everyone else would agree with me, too," she argued.

"They might have, but now you've started arguing. My purchase would have been over and done with by now, and you could have been on your merry way."

"It's not about time," Brienne continued through clenched teeth. "It's about respect for everyone else here." She didn't bother explaining to Jaime about common decency, since it was a lesson that he should have learned long ago. Plus, she was couldn't help but admit that part of what he said was true.

In a verbal sparring match, Brienne was certain that she would never be able to win. All eyes in the store were on her now, and she was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second. She couldn't help but think that if she were in-game, in Westeros, she would have put him in place by a quick thrash of the sword she'd crafted herself. But right there in the 7-eleven, she would have far preferred a quick death- one where she didn't need to choose between letting him win or standing her ground.

Cersei tittered prettily at her lack of response, while Jaime grinned a sly, half-smile that made her wish it was socially acceptable to wipe it off of his face with her fist.

Brienne decided that she didn't want to make the choice between him or her, and instead, she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and made to leave the store.

"I wasn' t hungry anyway, and you aren't worth my time," she huffed, wearing cold indifference like an armor. But just as she was about to make her exit her stomach rumbled again- this time loud enough so he could hear it and know that she had been lying.


	2. Coincidence? I think not.

**Chapter Two- Coincidence? I think not.**

* * *

**  
**   


Brienne was exhausted when her alarm clock went off the next morning. Not only did she go to bed hungry, but the confrontation she'd had with the Lannisters had been running through her mind over and over again. She thought of a million different ways that she might have ended their encounter that might have been better and less embarrassing than what had actually happened.

She tried to rationalize with herself, that she'd probably never see him again, except if they ran into each other on campus somewhere. Perhaps he wouldn't even remember her anyway, though she doubted that she'd be so lucky.

When she finally mustered the energy to pull herself from under her warm covers she knew that if she didn't hurry she was going to be late for her first class.

After quickly washing her face and running a comb through her straw-colored hair, Brienne tossed on a sweatshirt, a pair of jeans and ran out the door.

Professor Stark was a kind woman, but she wasn't known for being a pushover. More than one student had been kicked out of her class for waltzing in late- she saw tardiness in any form both disrespect for her time and a student's education. Brienne had been a part of her Middle English Literature Class the year before, and had more respect for the teacher than she could say. Catelyn Stark had taken a shine to her as well, and had really enjoyed her essay on feminism in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.

King's Hall was the largest building on campus, made of solid red brick with a clock tower that stretched high into the sky. You could see it from nearly everywhere on campus, and it served as Brienne's compass now as she ran to class.

Making her way to room 303, she managed to take her seat just before the clock bell on the roof tolled 9:00. She'd chosen a seat at the front of the classroom, since she felt that the closer she was to the professor, the better focused she'd be able to be, though she did prefer to be off to the side where no one could notice her either. Next to her a pretty red-head with big, blue eyes was sending a text message on her iPhone.

Professor Stark was at the front of the room, fiddling with the projector screen that seemed to be giving her trouble. Brienne could tell that she'd been trying to fix the thing for quite some time with no result, since she was muttering under her breath. Although she didn't usually like to impose herself in the center of attention, she knew that she could probably do something about it.

"Can I help Professor Stark?" she asked, getting to her feet. The woman looked back at her with eyes that spoke volumes about her frustration.

"I miss the days of blackboards and chalk. Why we have to use these PowerPoints all the time I'll never know," she sighed while Brienne took a look at the set up on the computer. The problem was a simple one, the computer's drivers were outdated, and couldn't recognize the projector. Updating them was all it took- though she didn't say so to the professor.

When the blue light flashed on the screen the professor looked delighted.

"Thank you Brienne, you've been very helpful."

"Any time," Brienne smiled back and settled into her seat again.

"That was nice of you," the red-head said with a delicate smile, and for a moment Brienne felt herself wishing she could smile so prettily. The one she gave in response was full of prominent teeth and too-large lips, but the girl didn't seem to mind at all.

This semester, Professor Stark was lecturing on Arthurian Literature, and Brienne had really been looking forward to the course. Old codes of chivalry an honor were like her bread and butter, and she'd already read most of the texts on the syllabus. Still, she had been looking forward to the class discussion about them. The lecture had been going for roughly 20 minutes when a loud noise caught the attention of everyone in the class.

Room 303 was built with a theater set up, and any noise in the room echoed quite loudly. It was useful for the lecturing professors, but a real pain for any latecomers- since the minute the door to the hall was opened, everyone could hear it. Sneaking in was practically impossible, though the person who entered hardly seemed to care about sneaking at all.

Brienne discreetly looked above her at the unfortunate person who was going to earn the wrath of the professor, but as soon as she saw who it was, she blushed and hid her head between her the keyboard and screen of her laptop instead.

Brienne Tarth had shit for luck. She'd always suspected that in a past life she'd made some foolish mistake that she was paying for now.

Of all the classes on campus, Jaime Lannister just had to walk into hers. He wasn't accompanied by his siblings this time, so she supposed that she should be at least a little grateful. Still, he had come in hopelessly late, and Brienne couldn't help but count on Professor Stark's policy on tardiness to have him removed before he noticed her. Unfortunately, just like everything else in Brienne's life, fate worked against her.

"Mr. Lannister," the professor said, clear annoyance written all over her face. "I trust you will remember that class starts at 9:00 from now on. If your father weren't the president of this school I wouldn't hesitate to have you removed today."

"Lucky for me he is then," Jamie snarked in response, his green eyes crinkled in amusement. His comment earned him a laugh from the other students but a glance of anger from the professor. In reality, there was little she could do about his behavior. Rumor had it that President Tywin Lannister was particularly fond of his oldest son. He'd go to every length to ensure his success, even if Jaime didn't deserve it- and Brienne had a suspicion that he didn't.

Professor Stark directed her gaze from him immediately, as if looking at him for a second longer would have been too much for her to bare, and she continued on with her lesson.

The red-head sitting beside Brienne leaned over and whispered.

"He's a bit of an ass isn't he?" She must have been a freshman. The class was open after all, and were she a senior she would have already known about the Lannister's reputation.

Brienne grunted her approval, and continued to pay attention to the lesson until it had finished, dutifully typing intricate notes on her laptop. She was nothing if not organized.

When the class was dismissed, the girl beside her caught her attention again.

"I'm Sansa by the way. Sansa Stark." she said in a friendly tone that Brienne usually didn't receive. She was more used to being ignored than being introduced to.

"I'm Brienne- did you say Stark? Are you related to the professor?" Brienne asked curiously.

"You caught me. I'm her daughter, but she swore not to give me any special treatment in her class."

Brienne could see the similarity between the two, and was surprised she hadn't noticed it before- granted she hadn't been looking at the girl closely. Making direct eye contact meant that she could see someone clearly, that was true, but it also meant that they could see her.

"It's nice to meet you Sansa. Your mom is my favorite professor. I took her class last year and loved it, so I couldn't wait to sign up for this one."

"Arthurian legend is so romantic don't you think? I can't wait until we study Lancelot and Guinevere," she gushed. Brienne nodded, though that tale was never one of her favorites. She had always thought that Lancelot was kind of a bad guy. He swore his allegiance to his King Arthur and then went and stole his wife. It was kind of a jerk move. No matter how much he loved Gwen she still belonged to someone else. Still, since she'd only known Sansa for about an hour she thought she'd better keep her opinion to herself.

In the corner of her eye, Brienne saw a golden head sweep through the crowd. Somehow, Jaime Lannister had already aligned himself with the best looking group in the classroom, who surrounded him like they were his personal posse. She took a chance and looked at him, keeping her head low. Yet even though the moment lasted only a split second, he saw her. She watched as the recognition dawned on his face like it was being painted on a canvas in front of her.

Brienne cursed her luck for the millionth time that day, but she stood her ground as he approached her and took a deep breath to bolster her courage. She was prepared for the encounter this time, and refused to let herself get embarrassed again.

"You know that dim lighting in the 7-eleven hardly did you justice. You are spectacularly more ugly in here, You know what they say about fluorescent lights," Jaime began with that wry grin she decided she hated with a passion. Brienne forced the red from her checks and said nothing, only crossed her arms in hopes that it would make her look less like a fool. There was a chorus of laughter behind him. The other students reminded her of loyal dogs, doing tricks for their master's treats. She hoped she'd never be so pathetic.

"No response to that huh? Or does it take your brain that long to come up with a decent answer?"

"Hardly, I just don't see the need to put on a show in front of all of these people like some idiots here."

"Well you didn't seem to have a problem with it last night."

Brienne turned away, intent on ignoring him while she packed up her laptop, but Lannister wasn't having any of it.

"What's your name? That shouldn't be too difficult for you to answer I hope," he pressed, but still she gave no answer. Although it was becoming more and more difficult not to engage him in another argument she didn't want to make a bad impression in front of the only person at the college who had every tried to be kind to her- and Sansa Stark was watching now, looking upset at the encounter.

"If you won't give me a name, I'll have to invent one- and I can promise it will be one you won't like."

Brienne fixated her glance on her computer chord, rolling it up to put it inside her laptop case without tangling, but Jaime never stopped his monologue once. He clearly loved the sound of his own voice as much as he loved himself.

"We're in an Arthurian Lit class, so what do you think about Maid? No, not Maid, it implies a pretty virgin, and you've only got one of those qualities. Cow? No that's a little too much, since a cow's got bigger tits than you. Oh, how about wench? I like that much better,"

Brienne spun around to glare at him, her blue eyes dark with anger.

"My name is Brienne," she spat, her resolve to hold in her anger was failing fast.

"Oh I think wench suits you much better." He edged closer to her. Too close, before she realized that she was actually a bit taller then him. It was shameful that he could make her feel so useless and pathetic all at once- it was almost as if she'd never been bullied before. But she had, and in far crueler ways than this, so Brienne had no idea why Jaime's words bothered her so much.

"You ought to tell that to my father then, since he's the one who named me," she answered, and slinging her laptop case over her shoulder she pushed past him, bumping him in the shoulder on her way out of the lecture hall.

It was the second time he'd bested her, and she was so caught up seething with rage that she hardly realized that Sansa was following her, the sound of kitten heels clacking against the tile floors.

"Hey Brienne, are you okay?" she called after her, and Brienne stopped her steady march forward to face the red-head.

"You don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine," she answered, already looking forward to getting home to play Storm Sword. Bashing some character's head in would release some of the rage she'd pent up.

"Are you sure? He was pretty hostile in there."

"I think he's hostile all the time. I should just ignore him," Brienne reasoned.

"You should, but you won't," Sansa added, almost sounding like her mother. Having no other classes until the evening, Brienne thanked her and said goodbye. She was glad that Evenfall was so close, because already the walk home with Jaime's words running through her head was too long to handle.

Putting her laptop bag on her kitchen table to wait for her next class, Brienne slumped down on her computer chair and logged into Storm Sword.

She clicked on Bri_the_Blue, and for a moment, she was able to forget that hopeless feeling she'd just had. Even though she was only a character in a video game, Bri was strong and fearless- cutting through enemies far more terrifying than Jaime Lannister without a second thought. Other players sought her for guidance, and she happily offered it because it made her feel useful.

As soon as the game had loaded, Brienne noticed she had a message from a rookie player named p0d. He needed her advice on how to approach his next quest, and she quickly sent him a friendly response.

Later, as she made her way through a swarm of enemies she mercilessly whacked off their heads, throwing everything she had at them while imagining Jaime's face on every, single one. She was surprised when another message popped up on her screen. This time, not from p0d, but from Hear.me.r0ar, one of the top players in Westeros.

Curious, she read the read the text of his message, surprised he'd even bother to speak with her.

**Hear.me.r0ar** : _Congrats on lvl 50._

**Bri_the_Blue** : _Thx_.

She really didn't know how else to answer, and to be honest, she was a little awed by the fact he was talking to her. Everyone in game knew who he was and aspired to be as great as he was.

**Hear.me.r0ar** : _You think you can beat me? In a fair fight?_

Brienne nearly choked. She was pretty skeptical, only having been level 50 for a short time, he was far more experienced than she was. Still, she was interested in trying, and so she answered honestly.

**Bri_the_Blue:** _I don't know. I haven't seen you fight._

**Hear.me.r0ar:** _Do you want to?_

A group invitation popped up on her screen then, and she wondered what on earth this player was thinking. She'd never really been in a group with someone better than her, let alone Hear.me.r0ar. Still, she was definitely interested, if not intimidated.

With a split-second of hesitation, she accepted the invitation, wondering why she was taking this game so seriously in the first place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so thankful to everyone who took the time to comment on this. I was a little nervous posting my first fic, but you guys have been great! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the second chapter!


	3. The Green Night

 

Brienne's days had been filled with classes, her evenings filled with Storm Sword. While she'd liked the game well enough before, she adored it now.

There was something to be said about travelling the in-game world with a steady companion. Brienne thought that hear.me.r0ar's invitation had been some sort of mockery Perhaps it had even started out that way, she thought with amusement. Yet he had continued to seek her out, night after night, until it was just assumed by the both of them that if they were online at the same time they'd group up.

On the very first quest they'd accomplished together he'd taken the lead, and she was cautious not to make any foolish mistakes. Still, that didn't mean that she played as well as she could of under his constant scrutiny, and when she slipped up he let her know with blunt honesty that stung like a bee.

But Brienne couldn't help but respect him anyway, since he had definitely helped her improve her game after all. Storm Sword was a game of strategy, and often, hearing an opinion other than your own was useful in navigating the fictional world.

That night, after they'd defeated a rather chilling number of the undead, they sent their avatars to the pub to chat a bit. They usually ended their questing that way, and although Brienne found it odd to be talking to someone who she'd never met, she also felt that it eliminated the pressure she felt when she was in public. She didn't have to worry about her appearance and she could be herself, free from the judgement that she'd grown so sick of over the past- well forever.

When she'd made Bri_the_Blue, she'd been honest. She hated it when female characters in video games looked more like prostitutes than warriors- stick thin, makeup heavy, and clad in armor that looked more like it belonged in some sort of male fantasy. How game designers felt chainmail bikinis and knee-high sandals would protect anyone from blades or arrows she'd never know, and in fact, she felt a bit insulted that her gender was being so overly sexualized.

Instead, she had made Bri_the_Blue as close to reality as she could- omitting the fact that woman weren't usually warriors to begin with. They weren't usually gamers either, but Brienne was always an individual. She had thought, on more than one occasion, that with her size she would have made a better warrior than maiden in the dark ages anyway.

Hear.me.r0ar on the other hand, had obviously opted for perfection when it came to his character creation, and he'd had the best armor in-game money could buy. Red and gold in color he cut an imposing figure on the screen. More than once during their quests they'd been approached by other players who wanted to try their hand at defeating them, but no one had ever been successful. Brienne's stats were better than ever before.

**Bri_the_Blue** : _I think I better call it a night._

**Hear.me.r0ar:** _But the fun was just starting!_

Brienne laughed, and not for the first time she hoped she wasn't talking to a 12 year old. Still, she thought it would be awkward to ask him any personal details.

**Bri_the_Blue** : _We've been on for 3 hours, and I've got books to read and papers to write._

**Hear.me.r0ar** : _So procrastinate. That's what I do_.

Brienne had never procrastinated in her life, it was too risky. She doubted she'd start now, and so she messaged him so.

**Bri_the_Blue** : _Can't do it._

**Hear.me.r0ar:** _Let me guess, you're one of those students in the front of the class, listening to your prof's every word and writing dutiful notes. You probably don't even need to study._

**Bri_the_Blue:** _And you probably do. Maybe you should stop playing, too._

**Hear.me.r0ar:** _Oh touché. You win My Lady, I shall open my dusty textbook and get to work._

She couldn't help but laugh a little. Based on his comments, she guessed that he was probably in college- high school at least. The knowledge made her feel more comfortable about the whole online friendship thing.

After wishing Hear.me.r0ar a good night, Brienne opened up her Arthurian literature course pack. This week they were studying the epic of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Brienne far preferred that tale to the overly romantic ones of Lancelot and Guinevere.

She read the story for the hundredth time to prepare herself for Professor Stark's class the next day and went to sleep.

That night, she dreamed of the story, although she was Sir Gawain, clad in shining armor and attending King Arthur's court. A knight, all in Green entered demanding an oath of honor, and Brienne, as noble as they'd come, accepted his task. She swung an ax at his head so hard that she cleaved it right off. Yet even such a thing didn't kill him as he held it up to show Guinevere- who in her dream looked a lot like Sansa Stark. A year passed in a dream-second, and now she was travelling to find the Green Knight, to let him chop off her head in return. She had made an oath, and as terrible as the prospect of dying was she knew she had to keep her promise.

She arrived at a castle, where she was attended by the Lannister siblings. Late at night, Jaime crept into her room and promised her protection from the Green Knight's blade. His green eyes, which she'd never really remarked on while she was awake, shone like the emeralds in the magical belt he offered her. She knew it was wrong, that she should face the Green Knight with honor, but she was afraid and accepted his gift.

The last thing she recalled before her alarm clock sounded was Cersei Lannister, staring down at her with a mocking smile.

"Coward," she'd laughed, as her ax fell towards Brienne's neck.

Brienne was startled awake, but pushing her dream aside as best she could, Brienne headed to Professor Stark's class. Sansa was waiting for her outside the classroom, texting on her phone as she often was. When she glimpsed Brienne she smiled and waved her over.

"My friend Margaery just messaged me about a party tonight in Evenfall Hall. You live there don't you?" she wondered.

"Yes. It's probably another one of Renly's. Why he'd choose a Monday night though, I'll never know. Thankfully the walls are well insulated."

"Why don't you come?" Sansa wondered, her blue eyes gleaming. Brienne shook her head frantically, still wary of Sansa's friendship. She never trusted easily, no matter how kind a person seemed to be.

"I'm not really a party person, but I've been friends with Renly since high school. I can guarantee it will be a good time if he's the host." Sansa looked a little down at her refusal, but thankfully she didn't dwell on the matter. Brienne didn't want to relieve the memory of the last party of Renly's that she'd gone too- the humiliation she'd felt.

The two girls took their accustomed seats at the front of the hall, and Brienne couldn't help but recall hear.me.r0ar's words from the night before. Somehow he'd managed to have her pegged perfectly, since when the class began, and Professor Stark began lecturing, Brienne did indeed take dutiful notes.

"Can anyone tell me," the professor said, "why Sir Gawain failed his task in the end?"

"Gawain broke the oath he made to the Green Knight. He was supposed to go willingly to his beheading and bear it honorably. Instead, he took a magical girdle from the lord's wife because he was a coward," Brienne answered confidently, thoughts of her dream rushing up. She drove them away again before they drowned her. Dreams were only dreams, and she knew she shouldn't dwell on hers, whatever it might have meant.

The professor nodded in approval at her comment and turned to the rest of the class.

"Does anyone have anything else to add?"

"I don't agree," Jaime Lannister's voice shouted out from the top of the amphitheater. Brienne groaned, knowing full well that he was only disagreeing with her on principle. If he'd bothered to read the book he'd know she was right, and that he was only going to make a fool out of himself.

"Maybe he should have kept his promise to let the Green Knight behead him, but I think what we all forget is that in Arthurian times, there were two kinds of honor. Sure, there's the whole chivalrous notion that we've been talking about, but didn't the knightly code talk about protecting women? Gawain could only resist the wife so much without offending her, and he was duty-bound to fulfill her requests just as much as he was to keep his promise to her husband."

Brienne was shocked. She wasn't sure if she was more surprised that Jaime Lannister had answered a question or that he'd answered it well.

"The lady was the wife of someone else though, how honorable was it for him to let himself get seduced? He was weak," Brienne argued, not bothering to raise her hand.

"Honor doesn't matter if you're dead. Besides, let's be realistic here. There are only so many promises that a knight can make. He could only honor one of them. Why is it that when he chooses a woman over his own death he's seen as being weak?"

"A response Brienne?" The professor asked.

"He made a promise, and no matter how pretty a woman is, it's no excuse for breaking it."

Professor Stark nodded, and moved to take comments from the other students in the class.

It was almost painful to admit that she thought Jaime Lannister had a point about something, but Brienne was always one to give credit where credit was due, no matter how repulsive she found the benefactor. As she saw him leaving the class, she couldn't help but call out to him. He looked amused, but he didn't insult her at least.

"I enjoyed your interpretation of the story today," she said, albeit through gritted teeth.

"When I bother to read the class material I can put even bookworms like you to shame."

Brienne rolled her eyes, but she didn't think he meant his comment in an unkind way.

"Then you should read more often. I'd enjoy debating with you again," she said. Jaime nodded and left the classroom, his signature, cheeky grin haunting her. it had been the same in her dream.

After class, she and Sansa went to the cafeteria to get some brunch. It was busy, just like it always was. Students sat in groups or on their own, eating, studying or just talking. Tables and chairs had been haphazardly tossed around to meet the needs to different groups of people.

Grabbing a fresh muffin from the bakery section, Brienne and Sansa lucked into finding a table while they killed time for their next classes.

"I didn't know Jaime Lannister had a brain under that pretty golden hair of his," Sansa said while sipping delicately at her latté. Brienne's bite of muffin hardly looked so dainty, but she didn't care.

"Me either," Brienne agreed, though they'd been talking about him since they left class, and the topic was getting old.

"I hate to interrupt your riveting conversation, but if you aren't using this chair can I take it? I can't reach the table without it," a mildly amused voice sounded from beneath her. With a start, Brienne realized that she'd completely missed the presence of Jaime's younger brother. Even worse was the fact that he'd almost certainly overheard their conversation.

When Brienne looked at him, Tyrion's face lit up with recognition.

"What a coincidence. You're the girl from 7-eleven!" he exclaimed, looking more mirthful than ever. Brienne suspected he'd already known that before he'd asked them to borrow the chair. Now, instead of taking it, the dwarf decided it would be better just sit at their table, putting down his tray of the daily special and making himself comfortable.

Brienne didn't answer his exclamation, she just stared at her half-eaten muffin.

"Sorry about that night, really. I'd have stepped in but, well, I'm already a constant disappointment to my family and you looked like you could trounce my dear brother far better than I could. I'm curious though, why didn't you?"

Brienne grunted back, not wanting to remember the incident. Sansa was tossing her a searching look while she tried to wrap her head around what was going on. It wasn't every day that you were joined at lunch by a Lannister, after all.

"It was all Jaime could talk about the rest of the night. Who does she think she is, that big beast of a woman? He ranted to everyone who'd listen."

"Why are you telling me this?" Brienne asked, truly confused. Tyrion took a bite of the macaroni and cheese, savoring its flavor like it was a meal at a first class restaurant, before he spoke again.

"Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because I think I might like you Brienne Tarth. It's not everyday I get the pleasure of watching my brother get his feathers in a ruffle, but I think it's good for him."

Brienne honestly had no idea how to respond, and so she decided that she just wouldn't. She didn't know how Tyrion knew her name, but she supposed it was just another one of his mysteries.

"There's a party tonight, in Evenfall Hall. You should come, if only to butt heads with Jaime. It might be my only entertainment all evening," the dwarf smirked. He continued his lunch, staring at her all the while. Despite the fact she tried to ignore him, Brienne couldn't help but think he was evaluating her the whole time she talked with Sansa.


	4. The Dangers of Eavesdropping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne goes to a party and learns more than she intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to write this note to say how grateful I am for everyone that has read, commented or given kudos on this story. It makes me feel happy to be part of such a great fandom! I am not completely confident with this chapter but I hope that you will continue to enjoy the story. As always I would be delighted to hear your thoughts!

Brienne didn't plan on going to Renly's party. All she wanted was to go home after class and play Storm Sword while deliberately ignoring the festivities below her. Before sitting down at her computer she bolted the door in case some drunk couple thought her room would make a good place to go at it.

Once the start screen of the game loaded, she logged in and wandered around Westeros while she ate a sub sandwich she'd bought on her way home. She meandered around, waiting for hear.me.r0ar, but when he never logged in Brienne grew more and more disappointed. It wasn't as if they'd planned on meeting in game or anything, but she found herself looking forward to their time together. Without hear.me.r0ar to join her, she felt almost lonely.

P0d wasn't online either, and she couldn't even occupy herself by helping him gain levels. Although it certainly wasn't as fun as adventuring with her new, online companion, at least it would have broken up the monotony of playing alone.

Sighing, Brienne logged out, no longer inspired to game alone. It was already 10 o'clock, and so the chances of hear.me.r0ar joining her before she went to bed were slim to none- especially since she hoped to get to sleep before the party grew too loud.

She was just about to get ready for bed when she heard a knock on her door. Annoyed, Brienne hoped it wasn't a party goer who wanted to use the bathroom, and so she looked through the little peephole in her door.

To her surprise, she knew her visitor, and a little awkwardly she slid the bolt from her door and opened it just a crack.

"Sansa? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Helping. Can I come in?" the pretty red-head asked with a grin, and Brienne didn't have the heart to tell her no. It wasn't like she got visitors very often, and she felt a strong urge to explore the novelty of it. Opening the door wider, she invited Sansa inside before she realized that she'd brought a friend. The other girl was beautiful too, and she thought that pretty people must travel in packs. Curly, brown hair and big doe eyes made her look gentle and demure, but there seemed to be a spark in her as well as she toted a rather large bag inside with her.

"Brienne, this is Margaery Tyrell, a friend of mine."

"You're Loras' sister!" Brienne exclaimed, and she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the similarity between the girl and her brother before. Margaery tilted her head in amusement.

"How did you know that?"

"I went to high school with Renly, we're friends sort of," Brienne answered. Margaery nodded, obviously having never heard about her before- though it wasn't surprising despite the fact that Loras often joked about Brienne's infatuation with his boyfriend.

Sansa had begun opening the bag that they'd brought, and Brienne couldn't help but regard it with suspicion.

"Are you going to tell me what you want?"

"I want to know why Tyrion Lannister was so interested in you this afternoon. I know his brother was rude to you in class, but it started somewhere else didn't it?" she asked.

Brienne didn't really see the harm in telling her about 7-eleven, since it was clear she wouldn't leave without an answer. Sansa and Margaery listened to the story while they pulled copious amounts of beauty products out of the bag.

"I hope you're not thinking what I think you are Sansa," Brienne groaned, but the red head smiled innocently.

"I'm thinking that Renly's party won't be half so fun without you."

As forthcoming as she'd been with the story about 7-eleven, Brienne had no desire to tell the other girls about the last time she'd thought it would be fun to go to a party. She'd been invited by a friend of Loras, Hyle Hunt, and had been the most excited she'd been since Renly had asked her to dance at prom.

Hyle had flattered her and paid her compliments that she knew weren't true, but it had been so nice to hear them anyway that she didn't mind. By the end of the night, he was drunk, along with most everyone there but Brienne. He had begged her to go back to a room with him, and Brienne wasn't naive enough to misunderstand his meaning. Still, she'd managed to stay a virgin until now, and hadn't wanted to throw that away on someone who was too drunk to remember it the next day anyway.

It was only after she'd turned him down that she discovered that he didn't really want her, but that she was part of a _She's All That_ -esque bet among a group of boys. Free beer for a year to the one who managed to screw her- both figuratively and literally. She was no Rachel Leigh Cook, and no amount of new dresses or makeup jobs would ever make her beautiful enough for Freddie Prinze Jr. to want to get into her pants without some kind of bribe. She knew that now, and had hated that stupid movie ever since.

Brienne never went to a party again, though the next time she saw Hyle in the cafeteria she'd made sure to punch him so hard in the face that he had to make a trip to the dentist afterwards.

Brienne didn't slap- that was for girls like Rachel Leigh Cook. Granted her dad hadn't been thrilled at paying the boy's bills, but he was proud of her for standing up for herself at least.

Brienne examined Sansa and Margaery's stock pile of makeup with a grimace.

"You do realize that no amount of makeup is going to make me want to go to that party, right?" she asked.

Sansa sighed and ignored her, rustling through foundation colors to find one she thought might match Brienne's complexion. After she seemed satisfied with her choice, she spoke.

"Look, makeup is not about making a girl prettier. I mean sure, it can do that and everything, but my mom always says that putting on makeup is the same as a knight putting on armor. It's all about confidence and feeling unstoppable. I think every girl can definitely use more of that- but especially you. I want you to go to that party and show that dwarf that you aren't afraid of Jaime Lannister's crappy attitude."

Brienne had to admit that she was a little touched by Sansa's words, although she wasn't quite sure why the younger girl was taking such an interest in her. She hoped it wasn't pity because she hated being pitied. Still, she stopped arguing and let Sansa and Margaery work their supposed magic.

"You know, I took Music 101 with Cersei," Margaery admitted while carefully applying black eyeliner to her left eye. Her lips were pouting with concentration.

"I tried to be friendly, but the bitch just wouldn't have it. It's like she thinks because her dad's the president that she gets to act like the queen of Casterly College."

"She is pretty though," Sansa conceded while she worked on the other eye, being careful to match Margaery perfectly. Brienne would have added a comment, but the last time she tried to talk while the two of them were working on her makeup she'd been told to keep still. When they finally   
finished, Brienne felt a little relieved.

She looked in the mirror, though she had wanted to avoid it. It was true that the makeup didn't make her look beautiful by any means, but Sansa and Margaery had done their best to accentuate her best feature. Her father had always said that her eyes were as blue as the lake outside their home, and the gratuitous amount of eyeliner seemed to make them stand out even more. She understood Professor Stark's advice to Sansa better then, and decided then and there that no matter what happened at the party at least this time she'd have friends with her- and that was definitely a better deal than she'd had with Hyle Hunt.

As satisfied as she was sure she'd be, Brienne went to the bedroom and picked out a pair of clean jeans and a simple, blue t-shirt.

When she was ready, she met Sansa and Margaery in her kitchen.

"Promise me you'll at least try to enjoy yourself," Sansa said, taking Brienne's hands. After all the younger girl had done for her, Brienne couldn't bring herself to argue.

"I promise," she answered a little reluctantly- but Brienne Tarth never broke her promises.

As they descended on the elevator, Brienne could hear music blasting already, and when they finally arrived on the basement floor the sound of David Guetta's Titanium rang through the room so loudly that the beer bottles lined up on the tables were jingling together.

Technically, glass bottles weren't even allowed in the residence, but Renly never let himself be bothered by the order of things. Brienne spied him lounging in an enormous green recliner that stood on a platform. A crown of beer bottle caps that had been hastily glued together rested on his head crookedly.

Chairs and tables had been set up all over the basement, and a dance floor had been cleared in the center of the room where Renly could watch over his proceedings. It was almost like he was a king observing his court of drunken fools, all with his loyal boyfriend by his side.

The room, despite being quite large, was crowded with people and made Brienne feel uncomfortable. She was, without a doubt, the tallest girl there, so she tried to hunch herself over to appear less noticeable.

To be polite, the three girls made their way over to Renly to say hello. He didn't notice Brienne at first, but kissed Margaery on her cheeks and said a friendly greeting to Sansa. When his eyes met Brienne however, Renly was shocked.

"Brienne? I'm amazed you came!" She thought he sounded delighted, but it could have been the alcohol talking.

"You kept inviting me, so I figured I'd need to see what all the fuss was about," she answered with a forced smile. Frankly, nothing about too-loud music and dancing that looked more akin to gyrating was fun for Brienne, but she had promised Sansa she'd try to have fun, and so that was what she was going to do.

Luckily, the girls managed to find a table, where they sat, drank and chatted loudly over the volume of the music. Brienne had only water, but Sansa and Margaery were quite content with fruity coolers they'd managed to snag from a senior.

It was a few minutes later when Brienne noticed the Lannisters. They were at a table across the room, and Brienne was grateful that she wasn't close enough to earn any jibes from any of them, though she did watch for a time.

More people approached the siblings than she could count, probably asking for a dance, or if they could buy them a drink- though not Tyrion. Instead, the dwarf drank his beer with a smirk as he watched his brother and sister turn down every offer that came their way.

Brienne found it a little odd that neither of them budged, but figured people as elitist as Jaime and Cersei couldn't be bothered to dance with the drudge of Casterly College society.

"You're staring," Sansa laughed in her ears, and Brienne blushed with embarrassment.

"Was not," she answered, and tried extra hard to avoid the area of the hall where they were seated entirely while she continued to talk with Sansa and Margaery.

Nearly a half hour later, Brienne decided it a good time to use the bathroom. Truth be told, she really wanted to leave, but didn't want to be rude to the friends she had come with. Unfortunately, going to the restroom would require her passing by the Lannisters, so she could only pray that she'd be able to slip by without their notice.

Tyrion was the only one who remained at the table, and although he was in a heated debate with Bronn Blackwater, who she recognized from the track team, he still managed to see her. Brienne had the sinking suspicion that very little passed Tyrion Lannister without him noticing. Yet he didn't say anything, only raising his beer bottle in a mock salute. Offering him an awkward wave in return, Brienne left the room to head towards the hallway to where the elevator was. She far preferred using the bathroom in her room to the public one nearby.

She was about to press the call button for the elevator when she heard raised, angry voices from the end of the corridor where the stairwell was. At first, she thought that maybe she was hearing things because of the noise from the party, but when she heard it a second time she grew concerned. It was clear that there was an argument between a man and woman, and if there was alcohol involved that could definitely spell trouble. Despite the fact that she didn't want to get herself involved in a messy situation, the chances that it could get a lot worse if nobody stopped to help made her feel compelled to break it up.

As she approached the voices, the words being spoken became much clearer.

"Is it true or not!" the male voice demanded.

"Is what true?" the female replied, a lot more nonchalantly than whomever she was speaking to.

"Did you or did you not sleep with Lance?"

"God, how can you even ask me that? Who put that idea in your head? It was Tyrion wasn't it? That little bastard!"

"You're not exactly denying it are you?"

"It's not worth a response Jaime. I want _you_ , not Lance. Tyrion's a liar, and he's always been jealous of how close we are."

"He knows what we're doing Cersei. What if he tells our dad?"

"He _won't_!"

With a feeling of horror, Brienne realized who it was she was eavesdropping on, and she was definitely hearing something she shouldn't be hearing. Even though she knew she should leave and pretend it never happened, for some reason she couldn't bring herself to move. What if they heard her footsteps? Then she'd really be in trouble.

She barely breathed, but try as she might she couldn't drown out the words she was hearing. It was wrong. Sure, they were step-siblings, but if people found out that they were sleeping together that could be awful. Brienne didn't like to judge people about who they loved- to be fair she'd been in love with Renly for years even though she knew he could never return her affections. Still, there was a wrongness about the way they spoke to one another that Brienne couldn't abide by even though she couldn't see their faces.

"I want to hear you say it. Say you didn't sleep with him," Jaime pressed, and Brienne cringed at the desperation in his voice. Cersei only laughed it off.

"As if you're believing the dwarf over me! It's ridiculous. I'm going home, and don't bother coming to my room to apologize. Maybe you should fuck Tyrion instead, since you clearly trust him better than you do me."

Brienne didn't like Jaime. To be more accurate she couldn't stand him- but her heart hurt for him nonetheless.

Hearing Cersei's high heels echoing on the tile floor and up the stairwell, Brienne made a mad dash back towards the elevator and pressed the button again. She waited impatiently until the doors opened, and she rushed inside, hoping she got away without the Lannisters knowing she'd overheard them.

Yet just as the door was about to close, a foot jammed into them, activating their sensors so that the door would open back up.

In walked Jaime Lannister. Brienne didn't want to be on the elevator with him at all, but as the doors shut and it moved she knew she was trapped.

His eyes were glazed over with beer and anger, though it took him less than a second to recognize her.

"Fancy meeting you here, wench! He exclaimed, stumbling around the elevator as he moved closer to her.

"You're drunk Jaime. You should go home," she answered. He laughed as if it were the funniest thing she could have possibly said.

"I can't go home," he insisted. She noticed then he hadn't selected a floor, and that they were riding up towards her apartment.

"Well you certainly can't come with me. How about when I get to my phone I'll call you a taxi okay?" she asked.

"Are you sure you want me to go? I could keep you company," he grinned at the hidden meaning behind his words. Usually Brienne would be bothered by them, but after what she'd just heard combined with copious amounts of alcohol, she couldn't exactly blame him for acting that way. In fact, she sort of felt sorry for him.

Gone was his lazy confidence and the wit that he'd displayed in class when he answered Professor Stark's questions. She'd have far preferred him acting as he normally did instead of as the hot mess in front of her.

"You know you want to know how it'd feel to be with me. I bet most guys are intimidated by you. I wouldn't be though," he slurred.

"I'm not interested," she responded coolly, and he slumped down on the elevator floor.

"You're not the only one," he answered.

When the elevator finally stopped Brienne hustled to get out, leaving Jaime behind her. She felt a little guilty, though she knew there was little she could do to cure his depression or his drunkenness.

When she got inside she made sure she bolted her door and slumped on her bed. Thoughts of her recent discovery swimming through her head like a thousand, thought-provoking fish.

She never went back to the party.


	5. Volunteering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Brienne tells Jaime exactly what she thinks- and he actually sort of listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Hodor-sized thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story, I've really appreciated all of the lovely things you've said, since I'm still not sure what I'm doing here. I'm sorry this update is later than anticipated, I blame it on GoT Finale depression. As always please let me know what you think!
> 
> <3

Jaime wasn't in Professor Stark's class by the time the lecture started. Brienne knew, because she'd looked. Even though he'd been a complete jerk to her, she couldn't help but remember how vulnerable he'd acted in the elevator. She wondered if perhaps he used his snide comments to cover up the insecurity he felt about his relationship with his step sister- though she was hardly a psychologist equipped to make such a judgement, and whatever was going on between the two of them was a tangled web she could never hope to sort out.

When class finished, and Brienne was just about to head to the cafeteria with Sansa, Professor Stark called her over eagerly.

"Go ahead, I'll buy you a muffin and meet you there," Sansa said with a knowing wink. Brienne was a little confused by the whole thing. She hoped that she wasn't being summoned because her essay on Sir Gawain and the Green Knight had been unsatisfactory, since she'd put a lot of effort into it. Even more alarming than a bad grade however, was the thought that she could have let Professor Stark down- the very idea of such a thing happening made nervous shivers run through her spine.

"What can I do for you Professor?" she questioned, though not without a little apprehension.

"I have an internship available that I thought you might be interested in," she said with a warm smile. Brienne instantly felt her body relax.

"It's not a paid position, but the experience could look great on your resume."

"Really? W-wow! I- I would love to Professor!" Brienne said, unable to get a firm hold on her thoughts before the words left her mouth.

"I'm happy you're so eager to help, though I didn't even tell you what the job would entail," she laughed. Brienne flushed with embarrassment, although she felt quite proud of herself as well. It was the first time she'd ever been singled out among her peers in such a way.

"I'm on the board of directors for the Northland Museum. We're launching a new, medieval exhibit in 2 months, and we'd like to promote it with a sort of medieval festival. I'll need a lot of help to plan it, and that's where you'd come in."

Brienne grinned widely. She didn't even mind that the professor would get a full view of her horse teeth, she was so excited.

"Why did you choose me?" she couldn't help but wonder. It seemed far too good to be true, and she never had much in the way good fortune before.

"You do good work in class, and Sansa seems to like you. As soon as I mentioned the job to her she insisted I give it to you, though I would have without her saying so. If it makes a difference, she'll be volunteering under you."

In that moment, Brienne was immeasurably grateful that she'd found a friend in Sansa Stark. She'd never known before how much difference companionship could make in a person's life. Sure, Storm Sword was great, but the relationships she made online were hardly solidified. As fun as playing with hear.me.r0ar was, he'd been missing in action for the past week and Brienne had been left to play alone- or with p0d when he wasn't working on his high school assignments.

"I promise you Professor I will not let you down. I can't thank you enough for the opportunity," she said, earning a grateful nod from her teacher in response.

"Excellent, I'll send you the details this afternoon. Now if you'll-" the Professor began, but she was interrupted mid-sentence by a loud slam of the door. Brienne didn't even need to look to see who'd entered, since he made his presence known right away.

"Professor Stark," Jaime Lannister said, more morosely than usual. Catelyn Stark's eyes narrowed as she looked across Brienne to him, dislike evident in her gaze.

"Mr. Lannister, class ended a few moments ago. You are more than a little late."

"I'm dropping out," he said.

"Of the class?" the professor asked raising an arched eyebrow.

"No, from the school. I thought you should know, so you don't bust my balls for not coming to class," he said. His voice held its usual snark, but lacked the conviction behind it, and Brienne was reminded again of how Jaime acted in the elevator. When she finally bothered to turn around to look at him, Brienne was surprised to see that his arm was in a sling. He didn't project the sort of godliness that he had the last time she'd seen him. He was unshaven with two black eyes, and he walked with a limp that made it apparent he'd been in a fight. She couldn't help but speak up, dumbfounded by his statement and appearance. What he'd fought over was hardly a mystery to her, and she thought that it was foolish to quit school for such a petty reason.

"You don't even have the decency to finish your degree? You've only a year left, why waste all of your time here if you were just going to quit? You owe it to yourself to at least finish."

"How sweet wench, I didn't know you cared," he replied. Brienne glared at him, though she thought carefully about what to say next so she didn't fumble her words and look like an idiot.

"I _don't_ care, I just think you're taking your education too lightly. It's important." she answered. Jaime had no idea she'd overheard his conversation with Cersei, and perhaps she was being too self-important when she thought that it was their argument that prompted his decision to give up school entirely. Still, it had doubtlessly played a part. Quitting because your girlfriend/step-sister was letting some other guy near her lady garden was pathetic. Jaime Lannister was a good looking guy so unlike herself, he'd have no problem getting back on his relationship feet.

"Right, education is important. Haven't you ever thought that the world expects too much from us? We graduate college, then we need to get a job pushing papers for someone more important than us. In a few years, maybe we'll get a promotion. Then of course there's marriage and kids to think about- but if you're especially lucky like I am, your dad will expect you to take over the family business even if you don't want to. I'm sick and tired of the bullshit."

"Forgive me if I don't cry for you Jaime. If you think you're the only one whose got problems then I've got news for you. There are people in much worse circumstances than you find yourself in, and they manage to be successful and happy all of the time. Get over yourself," Brienne argued, happy to at least have relieved a little of the frustration she felt towards him.

"Please send me an email regarding that internship Professor," she finished, before trudging out the door like she was on a mission of some great importance. She wasn't exactly sure why the thought that Jaime was so willing to drop out of school for such a stupid reason should bother her. She didn't even like him. He was rude, controlling and had said terrible things to her. Still, Brienne didn't like the idea of backing out of social obligations, and being educated was one of them. Sure, he had enough family money that he'd never need to work in his whole life, but that was completely irresponsible- especially since regardless of his reputation she knew very well that he was smart enough to do better for himself

She had made it quite far down the hallway before she heard Jaime follow after her, calling out wench again and again until the sound echoed around her. Still, she kept her course strictly set on the cafeteria- at least until Jaime used his one, good hand to grab her by the arm.

"Hey wench, I was calling you."

"Well maybe I didn't answer because my name is, in fact, Brienne," she answered. "Why are you following me?"

"I distinctly remember you on the elevator last week," he said, as if looking at her close up had caused him to suddenly remember. Brienne was surprised that he could recall anything given the state of his intoxication, and she turned pale at the thought that he knew that she'd heard him and Cersei. Immediately she thought to defend herself against whatever threats he might send her way.

"I'm sorry I overheard you Jaime but a stairwell isn't the best place to have an argument. I didn't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about."

"God, what? You heard Cersei and I?"

Alright, so apparently that wasn't what he was going to ask her about. Brienne wanted to bang her head against the wall and call herself a moron.

"Yes. And look, I'm not judging you or anything about that, but I still think it's pretty stupid to quit school over a girl."

"Then you don't know Cersei very well, though I should thank you for not spreading it around," he spoke through gritted teeth. It was clear that the though of his stepsister bothered him, and that he didn't want to dwell on the matter any longer than necessary.

"It's not my secret to share," she said firmly. Jaime laughed then, a pained sound instead of a mirthful one.

"Then you're more honorable than most of the wolves on this campus."

"If you don't want to talk about that, then why did you chase after me," she asked instead, to change the subject.

"Professor Stark asked me to talk to you about volunteering for some medieval thing." Brienne's eyes widened.

"What? Why?"

"She says if I volunteer she'll give me credit for the essay I didn't submit and the class I missed today. I promised I'd do it."

"I don't get it. Aren't you quitting?"

"Aren't you the one that just told me that would be a stupid thing to do?" he countered, mimicking her voice to make her sound self-righteous. Brienne wasn't sure if she were more shocked that Jaime Lannister had promised Catelyn Stark he'd volunteer for anything or that he'd seemed to have taken her words into account almost as soon as she'd said them.

"You're face looks worse when you're thinking too hard. Are you surprised I'd bother listening to you?" he commented, making her surprise turn to anger.

"I'm not sure that what I said has anything to do with your decision. If you truly wanted to quit then you wouldn't have come to class today," she said, thoughtfully. He could have just quit without a word, but clearly something had compelled him to talk to Professor Stark. Still, she wondered what might have happened if she hadn't been there, since the two never seemed to get along well.

"Touche," was his answer, and he obviously understood her meaning. "Anyway, about that volunteering?"

"I haven't even started yet, so I'm not sure of the details yet," she admitted. The Professor would have known that, too, so why she'd sent Jaime reeling after her was anyone's guess. Perhaps she'd just wanted him out of her hair.

"Give me your phone," he demanded, and for some reason she agreed without a fight. He busied himself by adding his number to her contact list, though it was difficult to do given the fact that his arm had been completely broken. He managed to manipulate the simple phone on the top of the cast and used his left hand to type in. It took much longer than it should have, but Brienne didn't say anything, since at least he was trying. He called himself afterwards, and after whipping out the smartest phone she'd ever seen to answer, he grinned.

"There. Text me when you think we should meet up about it boss," Jaime handed her phone back with his cheeky grin firmly in place. It made her feel a little better seeing him like that. He looked less like he might die of depression.

"Um. Okay?" she answered. It certainly wasn't the most articulate answer, especially if she was meant to be leading the project- but she was too busy thinking about if she should be disgusted or thrilled that he'd put his number in her phone himself.

Brienne ended up being late meeting Sansa. She was sitting at their usual table, most likely texting Margaery.

"There you are!" she exclaimed after noticing Brienne.

"So Margaery says she's totally into the medieval fair idea if she gets to be the queen."

"Sure, why not? What's one more volunteer?"

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked, curious about why her friend looked so dazed. So Brienne told her about the encounter with Jaime, about his arm and wanting to quit and eventually his promise to help with the fair. When she'd finished, Sansa looked just about as surprised as Brienne felt.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and homework, and after eating a quick dinner Brienne settled down to Storm Sword. Her excitement for the game was waning the more time she played without hear.me.r0ar, but each time she logged in she held out hope that he'd be online, too.

As soon as her avatar appeared in world a message popped up on her screen.

 **Hear.me.r0ar:** _Good evening, my lady._

A thrill rushed up her spine, though she knew that it was a little silly to look forward to meeting a person online she couldn't help it.

 **Bri_the_Blue:** _Where have you been?_

 **Hear.me.r0ar:** _Did you miss me?_

 **Bri_the_Blue:** _Maybe_.

 **Hear.me.r0ar:** _Sorry, life's a b**** sometimes. But I'm back now._

 **Bri_the_Blue:** _Do you need to talk about it?_

 **Hear.me.r0ar:** _Someday I might take you up on that._

 **Bri_the_Blue:** _I'd be happy to listen, whenever you're ready._

 **Hear.me.r0ar** : _Thanks. For now though, let's just kick some a**._

So they did.

 


	6. Victory and Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein our heroes take a road trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to all who reviewed. I try to comment as much as I can, but since I live in Korea I usually get review notifications in the middle of the night and forget to answer the next morning...I'm awful. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, and please comment if you have the time. I read them about 100 times each to help me write the next chapter! 
> 
> Much love,

Brienne stared at the screen of her cell phone. Jaime Lannister's number was highlighted in her contact list while her hand hovered over top of the select button. She knew that he'd given her his number so that she would, in fact, call him- yet the prospect of ringing up a Lannister was more daunting than she'd originally thought. Especially since the Lannister in question was Jaime, and they hadn't always got on very well. Plus, it was Friday night, and the chances were that he was busy.

Sansa was watching her, slightly amused as they sat at the kitchen table in Brienne's room, but she didn't say anything. Perhaps she realized how hard Brienne was struggling within herself to just press the stupid button already.

Finally, after taking a deep breath and shaking out her hands a little, Brienne made the call. It only rang twice before he picked up. His voice had returned to the confidence she'd remembered him having before the incident with Cersei.

"If it isn't the wench! I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten all about me. Still, I thought I'd give you some leniency. I'm undoubtedly the first boy you've ever had to call and you must have been nervous."

"I wasn't nervous," she answered. It was a lie of course. "And don't delude yourself. You're not the first boy I've ever called." As a comeback it wasn't much, but it was the truth at least. She'd called her dad often, and even Renly- once. Jaime laughed, though it didn't sound like he was mocking her this time, more like he was genuinely amused by her. 

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

Brienne had thought a great deal about Catelyn Stark's request ever since she'd emailed over the details of the internship, and she'd decided it could be really interesting if instead of a cheesy carnival, it would be better if the fair was a true reflection of medieval life. She and Sansa had chosen to run the fair like a working medieval court, complete with feasting and festivities like the lords and ladies would have experienced ages ago. Professor Stark seemed delighted with the prospect, and had already gone about contacting a variety of professionals she was acquainted with that might be interested in participating for the museum. 

She explained all this to Jaime, her eyes clenched together in case he decided to call her idea lame or stupid and refuse to have any part of it at all. Yet she was bracing herself for mocking that never came. 

"I like the idea much better than having a hokey carnival. So tell me, what am I supposed to do.?"

"Well, Sansa and I were hoping that you'd maybe help us find some local craftsman willing to set up a sort of medieval marketplace. Ideally we're looking for wares that they might have used historically, and it'd be even better if they were willing to come in costume- and we'll need to find those too. There's a lot to do, and frankly the idea is a little overwhelming. I'd do it myself but I'm not exactly the best face for the campaign," she admitted.

"Fair enough. I'm free tomorrow if you want to get started."

Brienne stared at the phone as if the thing had grown legs and run off. She honestly hadn't expected such a reaction. Sansa gave her a questioning look, and mouthed 'what did he say' silently. 

"Still there wench?" Jaime was prodding her on the other end of the phone. She shook her head to collect her thoughts quickly and answered.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm free tomorrow. Where did you want to meet? Somewhere near a bus station would be best."

"Can you drive?" he asked, not really answering her question. Brienne did have a license, but she definitely couldn't afford a car, gas or insurance to pay to drive one around the city while she wasn't earning an income.

"Yes?"

"It sounds like you're asking a question, and that makes me nervous, wench."

"I can drive Jaime," she answered in frustration. "And for the last time, my name is Brienne."

"Meet me in front of King's Hall then. 10 o'clock." It seemed to Brienne that he was taking more charge of this situation than she'd intended to give him, although to be fair Jaime Lannister was never one to follow commands very well.

As soon as she hung up the phone, Sansa spurted out with little giggles.

"You know Brienne," she said between spasms. "You are really awful at talking on the phone."

The next morning was warm, and the skies were blue and clear. Brienne got up and got dressed, putting on her most professional outfit- black slacks with a blue, collared blouse. They may not have been anything Cersei Lannister might wear, but they were the best she had. Putting on a pair of sensible shoes and packing a messenger bag with the proposals she'd drafted the night before she made her way to meet Sansa and Jaime where they'd agreed.

The tower of King's Hall was just visible in the distance when her phone rang. Digging it out of her bag she answered quickly when she saw it was Sansa on the line.

"Hey Brienne," she said, though her voice didn't hold its usual cheerfulness.

"What's the matter?" Brienne asked, concerned for her friend.

"It's my dog, Lady. She's missing." Brienne could hear the tears in Sansa's voice, and her heart plummeted. 

"Do you have any idea where she might have gone?" 

"None. She's such a good dog, she always stays in the yard when she's out. I don't know what could have happened to her, but I'm really worried. I'm going to keep looking for her today, so that means I won't be able to make it on our trip."

"Of course Sansa. Don't worry about anything. Jaime and I will be fine on our own," she assured her friend.

After she'd hung up the phone, Brienne realized that without Sansa as a buffer, it would mean she'd be alone with Jaime. The thought made her instantly nervous, almost like she was a maiden in Regency England without a chaperon. In this case however, she didn't need one to protect her from scandalous behavior, but to help keep her calm when Jaime undoubtedly said something to set her off.

When she eventually arrived at King's Hall she saw Jaime with his brother sitting on the steps that led toward the entrance. Parked on the road that wound around the building was a highly conspicuous, red sports car and Brienne groaned inwardly. 

Tyrion noticed her coming first and grinned. 

"Off to have an adventure are we?" he asked.

"It's hardly an adventure," Brienne mumbled back. Jaime turned to her then and grinned- the sight of it caught her by surprise and she found herself stricken for a moment before she could gather her wits about her again.

"Nonsense, travelling all of the city on a noble, red steed while perusing merchants to aid in our quest? Sounds like an adventure to me," he laughed, and Brienne couldn't help but join in a little.

"Let's just say it's a good thing you can drive. Jaime drove here with his cast and it was not an experience I'd care to repeat," Tyrion said with a slight grimace.

"It's dangerous to drive with a broken arm," Brienne couldn't help but chastise Jaime.

"People drive on cell phones and with a coffee all the time. At least both my hands were on the wheel," he countered, and Brienne had to concede it was a good point, whether she agreed with him driving or not.

Tyrion snorted.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself big brother. I'm off," he said heading off.

"Where's he going?" Brienne wondered. It was Saturday after all, and it wasn't like they had class.

"To meet a girl he likes, I think. She works in the cafeteria. Where's Sansa? I wouldn't expect a Stark to be tardy," he joked. After explaining to him that Sansa wouldn't be coming because of Lady's disappearance Jaime nodded in understanding.

"Well then let's go shall we?"

Behind the wheel of the convertible, Brienne felt a little uncomfortable. To be honest, she hadn't driven in a while and this car was far too nice for her to destroy. She was about to voice her concerns to Jaime, but before he had a chance he interrupted her thoughts.

"Nicest car you've ever driven in, right wench? I'm not surprised. Still, don't worry about it. It might look fancy but it runs the same as all the others. I'm sure you can handle it- unless you'd rather let the invalid drive of course."

"I wouldn't," she admitted, turning it on and ordering Jaime to buckle up- a feat which proved difficult to accomplish given the fact that he had to do it one handed. She would have offered him help if leaning over towards him wouldn't have been so uncomfortable.

Their first stop was Toby Mott, a metallurgist who enjoyed dabbling in blacksmithing as a hobby. Professor Stark had recommended him, since apparently he'd attended a number of medieval themed gatherings to show off and sell his wares. Rumor was he'd even forged weapons for a few movies as well, though Brienne wasn't sure how true that was. 

She managed to drive the car to the shop successfully enough that Jaime only had to whine a few times about how hard she was pressing the break with her enormous feet- his words, not hers.

Mott's business was outside of the main city, and was more like a factory than a shop, with vats of boiling alloys and metals of all kinds waiting to be mixed, blended and separated however Mott saw fit.

Jaime and Brienne found what appeared to be a sort of reception desk and waited. Jaime had called ahead and Mott was expecting him. A tall, bald-headed man eventually spotted them and made his way over to where they were waiting.

"You must be Lannister. It's good to meet you," he said while offering his hand to shake. 

"You as well Mr. Mott. This is my friend, Brienne Tarth. We're here on behalf of the museum, looking for volunteer re-enactors for our Medieval festival," Jaime said, confidence dripping off of him like the sweat on Mott's brow. Brienne concluded that he was far more suited to interpersonal communication than she was, and while she felt a little guilty making him do all the talking, she knew that he'd do a far better job of it than she would. She did, however, make sure to hand Mott one of the proposal packages she'd printed out that morning. 

He looked it over with interest, though his eyes narrowed a little while he checked over the date.

"Normally this would be right up my alley, but I've got a major request that weekend and will be swamped here."

Brienne's face fell. How could she have failed on her first visit. It was completely disheartening. Jaime tossed her a wordless look that said 'relax.'

"I can send you with my apprentice though," Mott continued. "Hey Gendry, get over here will you?" he shouted out into the shop. Brienne was surprised that the young man answered considering how loud it was inside.

Gendry was a tall and handsome, though not very old. He looked like he must be fresh into an apprenticeship.

"I've been showing him some of the smithing craft, and he's made some really nice pieces. Hey Gendry, show them that bull-headed helmet of yours." The boy nodded and left, only to return a few moments later with a medieval looking helm with a coppery sheen and two, great horns protruding from the sides.

Brienne couldn't help but exclaim her appreciation for the work.

"That's fantastic!" she said. Gendry beamed at the praise while Mott explained to him about the situation.

"I'm in. It sounds like fun," he agreed, and the momentary depression Brienne felt lifted from her shoulders like a great weight.

"That would be perfect. If you wouldn't mind filling out these forms for us we'd be happy to wait," Jaime said, pulling a pen from his jacket pocket expertly. Gendry set about filling them out while Mott and Jaime chatted amicably. When they were finished, Brienne and Jaime said their goodbyes and thanks.

As they walked back to the car Brienne couldn't help but wear an enormous smile on her face, so big that she was sure her teeth were showing.

"Aren't you a little too pleased with yourself wench? I did most of the work," Jaime teased, though by now Brienne realized that it wasn't meant cruelly. 

"We've got our first vendor! I just hope everything else will go as smoothly," she said with a little sigh of happiness.

"For a minute there I thought we were going to be shit out of luck," Jaime admitted, and it made Brienne glad to think that he might have been as worried about Mott's refusal as she'd been. It was like he actually cared about their success and wasn't just being strung along for a better grade, and that thought surprised Brienne. She'd was usually the type to give someone a fair chance before deciding to judge them, but maybe she'd jumped the gun a bit with Jaime. 

Perhaps, she conceded, first impressions weren't everything. After all, she wasn't exactly the poster girl for great first encounters.

They both returned to the car and drove around a little longer. They were able to secure the help of a few more people on their list- a florist who was going to make traditional flowered wreaths for hair, and several farmer's market vendors who were willing to dress in costume and sell produce. One even offered to bring live chickens.

At nearly 4 they still hadn't eaten, since they were so consumed with their success. Brienne's stomach rumbled ferociously before they decided to take a break, pulling into the closest White Castle and heading inside.

"You did a good job today," Brienne said before taking a hearty bite of her burger. When she did, much to her embarrassment, ketchup ended up squirting on her blue blouse. She bent down to examine the stain with annoyance. Jaime laughed.

"Honestly you're the most graceless woman I've ever met," he said. She rolled her eyes at him and chose to ignore the comment, dabbing away at the stain with a wet napkin. He picked up his own burger, but one-handed he made even more of a mess than she did. Cursing he snatched one of her napkins for himself.

Brienne couldn't help but snort with laughter.

"You deserved that," she insisted.

"Maybe, but at least I've got an excuse. Still, maybe finger food isn't the way to go," he decided with tone that almost sounded cynical.

"How did it happen?" Brienne couldn't help but wonder. She'd been curious since she'd seen the injury and now seemed as good a time as any to ask. She hoped that their recent triumphs would serve to open him up, at least a little.

"I fell," was his simple reply.

"I believe that as much as the doctors who patched you up did," Brienne said, since it was so blatantly obvious that it was a lie.

"Alright," Jaime sighed, "maybe someone helped me fall." Getting the answer from his was more painless than she'd thought, though his admission was hardly enlightening. Still, she didn't want to press the issue, since they had been getting along so well all day. Thankfully, Jaime continued the story on his own.

"You saw, the night of Renly's party, right? Anyway, I was pissed and piss drunk both. I have the dangerous tendency to assume I'm invincible sober most of the time, and drunk I'm worse. So, against my better judgement I wandered into Brotherhood territory."

Brienne grimaced. The Brotherhood was a street gang made up of all sorts of scum. If something bad went down in Casterly, chances were they were behind it somehow. Hoat, their leader was well known on campus for being a go to for any 'medicinal' requests. He was supposedly pretty sick, and had done anything under the sun to ensure his prompt payment- including, rumor had it, chopping off some fingers.

"That was stupid," Brienne told him, though she was certain he already knew that now.

"It was, but back then I honestly didn't care. Anyway I mouthed off to them, and Hoat already has a grudge against my dad for kicking him out of school. One thing led to another and here I am, short the use of an arm."

"Shouldn't you tell the police?" Brienne asked.

"So that I can get beat up again or worse? No. I deserved it for being an idiot about everything." 

By everything, Brienne assumed he meant Cersei, too, but that was far too personal of an issue to bring up at a White Castle. 

"I just want to get better so I can get back to normal already. Westeros needs me at my best after all," he said, stretching his arms, over his head. Brienne coughed on her soda.

"You play Storm Sword?" she all but cried out. Jaime Lannister certainly didn't look like the average gamer. He seemed far more the partying, playboy jock type. He raised his eyebrow in surprise at her statement.

"You know what that is?" he wondered.

"Sure, I'm a subscriber," she answered, not even feeling as remotely embarrassed about the admission as she usually would. Jaime almost looked impressed.

"I don't usually enjoy games so much, but the writers seem to really know what they're doing. The world is so intense." 

Brienne nodded her agreement. She'd often felt the same.

"Let me guess, you play a cute little elf, running around in a mini-skirt and magic wand," he teased. Brienne glared.

"What makes you think that?" she demanded.

"Isn't that what girl games usually go for?" he laughed, using his straw to mime casting a spell. 

"That is a terrible stereotype. You're just as against the grain as I am," she insisted.

"How so?" he asked. It was clear Jaime was amused now, and he was not going to make this conversation easy for her.

"Well you look like you should be at a country club drinking champagne before your next polo match. Where's your stupid ironic t-shirt and 5 o'clock shadow? Furthermore, shouldn't you be overweight with pizza cheese hanging from your mouth?"

"Point taken," Jaime laughed.

"Besides, I play level maxed warrior, I'll have you know," she said, a little proudly. She'd never thought she'd boast about her achievement in real life. Then again, sitting in a White Castle with the campus catch wasn't on the top of her to do list either.

Jaime looked as if he was about to make a comment, his eyes glowed a little, his mouth pursed. Yet whatever he'd been going to say was interrupted when his attention was caught by something beyond the window. His face slowly turned to anger, the gleam in his eye replaced by an icy cold expression.

Brienne turned to follow his gaze, and she regretted it almost instantly.

Cersei and Casterly quarterback Oz Kettleblack were getting out of his Escalade in the parking lot, hand in hand. Without any warning Jaime grabbed Brienne hard by the wrist and dragged her from the restaurant out the back door before he slammed his back against the wall.

Brienne wasn't sure what to say, if there was anything she could say. The silence between them was deafening.

"Tyrion was right. I tried so hard to believe her that night, but the whole time I knew- I knew she was lying."

Brienne wasn't sure if she should agree with him or insist that what they'd seen was some sort of misunderstanding. Instead, she stayed quiet and placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping that the touch would convey her thoughts better than her fumbling words ever could. To her surprise, he reached up with his remaining hand and grabbed hers with it, squeezing it tightly. 

She understood everything he wanted to say.


	7. Damsel in Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Brienne has a rather unfortunate encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took forever to post. I usually don't take so long to update but with moving twice in less than a month, seeing my family for the first time in nearly 2 years, and starting grad school I've been a little overwhelmed. But now I'm settled in at my new apartment and have no friends in a new city- depressing for me, but it means I have a lot more time to write! So that's good. 
> 
> I debated going the route I did for this chapter, but decided to anyway because this is my own AU and I just wanted to put this scene in. I haven't seen it in very many interpretations, at least that I've read, and wanted to try. I hope you enjoy it, and I really appreciate all of you who didn't give up on me!

The ride back to campus was not as awkward as it might have been given the circumstances, and yet Brienne couldn't help how her eyes continued to drift towards Jaime as she searched for some of the weakness in him that she'd seen at the White Castle.

It was clear that he didn't wish to address what they'd seen any further, and that was really alright with her- since the alternative meant delving into the relationship between Jaime and his step-sister, which was something Brienne had no desire to do.

She had, however, insisted on taking him home, since he was obviously not in any physical state to drive and she highly doubted his mental capacity to do so either. Behind his green eyes, Brienne could almost see the war he was waging inside himself- should he forgive Cersei for lying to him, or should he wash his hands of her once and for all.

Honestly Brienne didn't miss the arrogant, cocky Jaime that he'd been when they'd first met in the 7-11. She knew now that his attitude then was a facade, an annoying one, but a facade none the less. She wondered if being free of Cersei would free him from it once and for all, and if that was the case, then no matter how upset the separation might seem to him now it would surely be for the best.

Lost in her thoughts for at least 10 minutes, Brienne barely noticed when Jaime started to talk to her. He wore the same golden smile he usually did, but Brienne noticed that it lacked the lustre it usually held. It was far from genuine. It wasn't even the slightest bit condescending, which was definitely a cause for concern.

"I'm glad you're focused on driving my car wench, but I've got to admit, your silence is pretty unnerving."

"Sorry, I guess I'm just thinking about what to do next for the Medieval Faire and all."

"You don't lie very well," Jaime said with an uncomfortable laugh.

"I'm not lying!" Brienne asserted back, despite the fact that it was clear Jaime had been able to guess what had been causing her mind to race.

"Right," he said, with a slight roll of his green eyes. "Well if you don't want to talk about what just happened than neither do I."

"Well I don't," Brienne answered.

"Great."

"Fine." And then the awkwardness set in and the two didn't speak again until they reached Lannister House. As imposing as President Tywin himself, the mansion towered over every other home nearby, and amazingly enough, didn't look out of place next to the ocean views that surrounded it.

A black, wrought iron gate surrounded the home. The long, spear-head tips of the bars were edged with gold, and they stuck out menacingly while great, stone lions greeted any who entered the cobblestone driveway. Brienne couldn't help but think they were more of a warning than a friendly welcoming committee though.

She hadn't even been inside the home, but she already felt completely unworthy of entering such a place, like it was too rich for the likes of her.

"Are you sure you can get home alright?" Jaime asked as she parked the car and handed him the keys.

"Yeah, there's a bus stop not too far from here. I just want to get home and play some Storm Sword to wind down. It's been a busy day," Brienne answered. She'd kept an eye out on the way back for where she'd be able to hop on easily, and although it would be a roundabout route back to Evenfall she wasn't that worried about it. She was a big girl after all, often mistaken for a man anyway. Walking on the streets alone at night never gave her the anxiety that it should have.

Jaime looked a little apprehensive, though she didn't know why. She considered the fact that he was still probably upset about what had happened earlier and decided that she was probably just imagining things.

"See you Jaime," she said with a slight wave of her hand.

"Bye Brienne. I'll see you in class on Monday."

She smiled and nodded, trying her best not to pity him- though that was becoming increasingly more difficult to accomplish. At first glance he had everything anyone could possibly want- he was prettier than her for goodness sake. Yet his world crumbled so easily she knew her first impression of him had been way off base.

With a final wave Jaime headed inside and Brienne turned to leave, though not without a strange, nagging feeling that pulled at her gut. She wasn't quite clear what the source of her discomfort was, and found herself looking over her shoulder on more than one occasion in an attempt to pacify her racing heart.

She had almost reached the bus stop when she finally spotted it- an old, black car behind her. Its lights were off, and at first Brienne thought she must have been imagining things when she could have sworn it had moved forward by several feet behind her. Still, the closer she got to the bus stop the more apprehensive she felt, like a thousand eyes of a monster were staring at her as it waited to pounce. She felt profoundly unsafe, more so than she ever had in her life. It was a strange feeling, especially since she was in a well to do area full of the wealthy homes of doctors, lawyers and professors. It wasn't exactly the kind of place one would normally get a bad vibe.

Still, Brienne wondered if it would be better to turn around and head back to the Lannister house and hope that Jaime hadn't gone straight to bed- or that Cersei wouldn't answer the door. She didn't think she could look at the blonde girl without wanting to punch her in the face for what she'd done to Jaime- as if she was defending his honor like some medieval knight. No, she thought. It was probably better for her to press on. She was clearly overreacting after a stressful day full of jumbled thoughts and emotions.

To look like she was occupied, Brienne pulled out her phone and pretended to dial a number. She'd read once, in a women's self-defense magazine, that acting like you're on the phone was a way to circumvent a would-be attacker. She often did it when she was alone in public too, since it helped her feel less out of place among the mocking eyes of those who passed her.

As she talked to phone enthusiastically she felt a little better as she reached the bus stop, but before she managed to sit down on the bench she felt strong arms reach around her neck, cutting her breath off at the source.

She struggled, elbowing her attacker in what she hoped was his gut. She was tall, and managed to overpower him a little before she felt another pair of arms hold her down. She cried out, but as soon as she had she was muffled with a rag that tasted of grease and god knew what else. She was pulled into the black car she'd seen trailing her and cursed at herself for being naive enough to think her way out of a danger she knew was real. Before she was able to physically harm her aggressors she felt a moment of pain against the back of her head before being rendered unconscious.

Brienne woke to the feeling of ice, cold water on her face, and she coughed it up as she awoke. She wasn't sure where she was, only that it was dark and her eyes were struggling to adjust to the low light. She was certain she wasn't alone though, since there were a lot of voices around her, and she could smell unwashed men close by, their scent making her rush to consciousness more than the water had.

"What do you want?" she managed to sputter out. She refused to act afraid in front of animals like these. She could hear snickers around her, echoing among the room. Eventually, Brienne was able to make out several figures surrounding her, and grew aware enough to deduce she tied to a chair in the middle of what looked to be a basement- or what was left of one. The walls were full of holes and pipes hung from the ceiling, dripping water and making the cement floor wet.

"From you? Nothin'," a male voice she didn't recognize said, drawing her attention to one of the men beside her. Her eyes focused on him, and she saw he had a black beard that was greased to a fine point at the end of his chin. Brienne wasn't sure what era he was trying to emulate, but he looked ridiculous.

"Funny, I don't think you would have brought me here if you wanted nothing from me," she answered firmly.

"It ain't you I've got a problem with, it's that pretty boy you've been hangin' with." beard guy replied, putting his hands on the armrest of the chair she was tied to in an attempt to look menacing. He would have been more successful if he'd stayed in the dark and she hadn't seen him.

"You're Hoat the Goat aren't you? The one that broke Jaime's arm?" she wondered, more to herself than anything, though Hoat saw fit to respond.

"That'd be me, and I ain't finished with him yet. He's on my list- the one I have for people I don't like, and I have an itch to send him a message. He's got a smart mouth, but he's a rat, and he won't turn me over like he did to Harris Targaryen,"

This story was one Brienne had heard before. Rumor was that Harris Targaryen, Casterly's old football coach had been juicing up his players with wildfire, and it was Jaime that told after quitting the team. The Casterly Lions had been well on their way to the State Championships, and needless to say it hadn't been a popular decision, though due to his background people generally didn't bring it up. But it was nearly 4 years ago and most of the student population had forgotten it- even Brienne hadn't given it much thought, since after all, using steroids in college football was a pretty dishonorable thing to do. Still, it didn't give Jaime a very good reputation for keeping secrets and it seemed that Hoat wanted to make sure Jaime didn't tell the truth about what happened the night of Renly's party.

"He won't say anything. He's got the message- and I'm hardly the right person to be using for leverage. We don't know each other that well," she tried to reason with Hoat, though she should have realized that reason wasn't exactly in his vocabulary.

"We've been watching the two of you go about your business all day. I might think you're uglier than a mud fence, but it ain't my business who Lannister wants to fuck."

"Look Hoat, let me go. I can't help you send whatever sick message you want to Jaime, because quite frankly, I doubt he'd care," Brienne replied, choosing to ignore Hoat's crude comment.

"I don't know, I think you're exactly what I need to show Lannister why he should keep his rat mouth shut. And you could give us some entertainment besides. Whatdya think boys?" Hoat asked, earning jeers and other derogatory comments in response. Brienne had to admit she was feeling pretty afraid at the moment, but she wouldn't give the Brotherhood the satisfaction of knowing it. Taking out a switchblade from his pocket, Hoat cut her binds and pulled her alongside him until he reached a trapdoor leading to a cellar even lower than the basement where she was.

She landed on her arm on the way down and cried out, only to hear the sounds of laughter above her. The Brotherhood was clearly watching her from above, but for what purpose she didn't know. Instead, she struggled to her feet before trying to find a way out of whatever pit she'd been thrown in.

It was then that she heard a growl, and she stood stark still. She wasn't alone in the cellar. There was something with her, and judging by the sound it wasn't small. Eyes glared at her in the darkness, coupled with the sight of white teeth that glowed in the faint light coming from above her.

She was fairly certain it was a dog, a big dog- a Rottweiler maybe, and an unfriendly one, too.

Brienne cursed, an unusual occurrence for her, but given the circumstances she felt it was justified.

Large droplets of drool dripped from the dog's mouth. Perhaps it was hungry, but it was most definitely angry, and all Brienne could do was stand still. The dog growled and lunged, swiping at her neck. Crying out in pain Brienne held her hand to the wound and felt the blood. This whole thing was ridiculous. It shouldn't have been happening. Things like this just didn't happen, and especially not to her. Maybe in Storm Sword, but this was real life, and hers shouldn't be in danger- at the very least not by drug dealers in a cruddy basement.

She almost didn't notice when another presence joined her in the cellar until she was pushed the the corner and out of the way of the dog's range.

"Jaime? What you doing here?"

"Don't talk, just get behind me and find a way up," he said, picking up loose rocks with his good hand and flinging them at the dog while she felt around for whatever she could use to get up to safety.

"You've got a broken arm Jaime! You shouldn't have come down here," she chastised as she continued to feel around. Finally she felt the rungs of a steel ladder that she hadn't seen in the dark.

"There's a ladder Jaime!"

"Then climb it you stupid wench, I'll hold the dog off."

"What about you?"

"Could you just climb the damn ladder please?" Jaime demanded, and so Brienne did as he asked, before helping Jaime up after her, the dog snapping at his heels. Both were breathing heavily, collapsed on the floor of Hoat's basement. It took a while before Brienne even remembered that they weren't alone, and that the Brotherhood was standing back and staring.

"I'm glad you came Lannister. We wasn't done with you yet, but you ran in so fast after your damsel in distress here we didn't have time to finish our business." Hoat laughed.

"Oh I think you'll find you are finished Hoat. I'll be taking the wench and we're going to walk right out of here," Jaime said with a confidence Brienne certainly didn't feel.

"Is that so?" Hoat asked.

"Well the way I see it is that you either let me go so I can return home safely in the next hour or so, or my brother will be only to happy to call the sheriff's department with an anonymous tip about where you and your boys here have been hanging out. I think you'll find that it would be the end of your business endeavor- granted I hear there's a high demand for dope in prison the clients can't exactly afford it. Unless, of course, you'd accept payment of a different nature- though I'm not sure you swing that way."

Hoat spit on the ground and swore. As a deal she supposed it would be a fair one. A police bust would mean a lot of lost revenue for the Brotherhood, and they seemed to care more about that than jail time. Still, she wished there were more they could do to get them off the streets.

"Get out of here asshole. I don't want to see you again," Hoat swore, temporarily defeated.

"Oh, I promise you that," Jaime answered, and grabbing Brienne by the hand he pulled her behind him. She didn't look back.

They didn't speak at first, not until they were safely seated inside a cab and on their way back to Evenfall. Jaime called to let his brother know he was alive, and hadn't been shanked by drug dealers, of which Tyrion seemed relieved.

It was only when they reached Brienne's dorm room and she had quietly invited him inside for a drink, that she mustered enough words to ask him the questions that had been plaguing her.

"Why did you help me? You could have gotten another broken arm, or worse."

"Besides the fact that it was my fault you were in that mess to begin with?" he asked, wearing that cocky grin she was starting to love more than hate.

"Seriously."

"Seriously then. Let's just say I dreamed of you."

Brienne wasn't sure if he was joking or not, Jaime certainly seemed to have that effect- but she definitely thought she could afford to brew him a cup of coffee.

 

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you so much for taking the time to read this.
> 
> Okay, so I'll admit it. I've never written a fanfiction before. But I've also never been so completely immersed in shipping two characters as I have been with these two. I decided to finally bite the bullet and give it a shot. I'm going to do my best to stay as true to the character's personalities as I can in a Modern AU, but I'm sure I'm not going to be perfect.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the story, and I'd appreciate your feedback. It's my inspiration to keep going after all!


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